He did it again, and her knees gave up the fight. On a sigh of surrender, she sagged and her arms found their way around his neck.
She’d expected something tentative and gentle, if only out of respect for her innocence, but the instant his lips met hers, he swept her up into a whirlwind. This time when his tongue moved against hers, she responded.
He gave a growl of appreciation and gathered her closer. Her blood ignited to flame. The whole world turned from dark to light. The onslaught of physical pleasure made her head swim. A demanding pulse set up in her belly.
When he raised his head, he was breathing roughly, while Emily felt as if he’d waltzed her through every constellation in the Milky Way. After that swirling voyage through the galaxy, it was difficult coming back to earth.
"Good Lord, Hamish, if I’d known you could do that, I’d never have left off pestering you."
His low laugh made her skin tingle with pleasure. "I’ve had plenty of time to think about how I’d like to kiss you, sweetheart."
"Do it again," she whispered, leaning closer. This greedy wanton couldn’t possibly be self-sufficient, self-contained Emily Baylor.
Except she wasn’t Emily Baylor anymore. She’d been Emily Douglas since November, even if it was only now that the name felt like hers.
"With pleasure," he murmured. They kept their voices low, although there was nobody to hear. The occasion seemed to demand reverence, even as her body awakened to a carnal delight she’d never known. "And I mean that most sincerely."
She thought she’d learned passion in his first kiss, but this one was even more voracious. Caught up in tumultuous response, she forgot that she was a novice, she forgot to fret over whether she was making a mess of this because of her inexperience. She just sank into the warm ocean of Hamish’s passion.
She greeted the entry of his tongue into her mouth with a flutter of her own. Through the blood thundering in her ears, she heard another of those rumbles of approval. He sucked her tongue into his mouth and she, eager for more of this dazzling new experience, copied him.
When his lips left hers, she couldn’t suppress a moan of disappointment, until he began to kiss her face and her ears, dizzying little contacts that made her burn for more.
This time his groan expressed frustration. She pulled away to see his face. Or as much of his face as the moonlight allowed. Her earlier uncertainty came flooding back. "Have I done something wrong?"
"Hell, no." His hair hung loose, ruffled from her roving hands. The cord that had confined it must be lying on the grass somewhere. "You’re a dream come true."
She blinked. "I wish you’d said these things to me years ago. We wouldn’t have spent so much time at odds."
He gave a grunt of amusement and kissed her quickly on the lips. Another thrill raced through her. It had been an altogether thrilling night. "You’d have laughed in my face."
She smiled, although she couldn’t help thinking how much time they’d wasted. Time when they could have been in each other’s arms. "Not if you’d been kissing me at the time."
"So whenever you disagree with me, I should kiss you?"
"If it means more kisses, I approve."
He laughed and kissed her again, and she dived deep into the pleasure and heat. He stroked her back and when his hands lowered to clasp her bottom through her skirts, another of those giddy thrills rushed through her. He hoisted her up and clamped her into his body. Her hands curled around those brawny shoulders, and she growled when her skirt hindered her from getting as close as she wanted.
Hardness pressed into her stomach. Thanks to her wedding night, she knew what that meant.
An hour ago, this excitement would have perturbed her, made her retreat. Now she rubbed luxuriantly against him and basked in his groan of frustration. Desire rushed through her, and the place between her legs turned hot and liquid.
In her naivety, she’d imagined a kiss would be a simple thing. She’d been mistaken. This passion between them was profound and earthy and urgent. Somewhere at the back of her whirling mind, she knew Hamish would need little encouragement to lay her down on the soft grass at their feet.
Under her hands, he was shaking and his scent had turned humid and musky. Their kisses had flared into a conflagration so quickly that she’d lost her grip on reality.
She pulled back and sucked in a huge breath to feed starved lungs. When he stared down at her, the moon was bright on his face. "You’re wearing too many clothes."
"Oh," she said, disturbed and excited at the same time.
To her regret, he set her down. "Let me."
"Yes," she whispered, although even in her heightened state, she knew the risks of letting Hamish remove her garments. "You’re shaking."
She found it disarming that his fingers fumbled as he undid the tiny pearl buttons fastening her shirt’s high collar.
"You strike straight to the heart of me, Emily, and that’s the truth."